My Friend My Stranger
by SilverSeeds
Summary: Even after spending so much time together, Nishimura and Kitamoto still feel a distance between them and Natsume. A simply prank by Nishimura gone wrong becomes the trigger for both of them to consider who Natsume really is, and who they themselves want to be when they interact with him.
1. Prologue

Nishimura was holding his breath. He inched towards Natsume, careful not to make even the slightest noise that could ruin the surprise attack. Natsume was always so overly sensitive. It was about time he relaxed more…relaxed and _smiled_.

"CAUGHT YOU!"

Nishimura lunged at Nastume, imagining how he might react: he will probably let out a girly scream, and then maybe he will laugh, and then maybe, _just maybe_, he will show one of his rare, warm, _pure_ smiles.

Reality was quick to disappoint.

SMACK

Natsume punched Nishimura's head with all his strength, and let out a desperate scream. Breaking free from Nishimura's grasp, it was only when he saw his friend kneeling in front of him that Natsume realised what he had done.

"N-Nishimura! I'm so sorry, a-are you okay?!"

Nishimura stayed kneeling, clutching his throbbing head. "Ouch…"

"I'm really sorry! I didn't think it would be you. C-Can you stand?"

Oh crap…not only did Nishimura fail terribly, he was making Natsume worry so much over nothing.

"Man, I feel so lame now…"

Nishimura stood up and smiled at Natsume, who clearly hadn't sensed the intended humour in Nishimura's voice. Instinctively, Nishimura turned away. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Natsume's expression was somehow...depressing. Clearly Natsume didn't realise how saddening he looked either, since he didn't change his expression until Nishimura diverted their attention to last night's homework.


	2. Nishimura: Part 1

Nishimura lightly tossed his bag to the side, and slumped onto his bed. It was rare for him to feel down for a whole day. Then again, 'feeling down' wasn't exactly the correct term either. If he had to say, it was more like…_something felt out of place_…_something was __**discomforting**_…

He remembered Natsume's reaction, and that facial expression which he couldn't bear to look at. Realising that he may have rudely averted his eyes from Natsume, Nishimura cringed slightly at his own insensitivity.

"Haaah…maybe it was mean of me to try something like that on Natsume…"

But then again, why should he need to treat Natsume specially? Natsume was a dear friend, almost as dear as Kitamoto now. Nishimura would try that sort of stunt with many others too (ie sneaking up on them), so why did it turn out so weird with Natsume?

Rolling over in frustration, Nishimura mentally kicked himself for trying to lump Natsume into some category. Obviously the guy was allowed to have any reaction he wanted, geez…

"Even though I really, just wanted him to smile…"

That's right; Nishimura recalled his initial motive. But he wasn't thinking of Natsume's usual smiles; not those shallow, fake smiles. He wanted to see that wonderfully pure smile of Natsume's, which he had only managed to see a handful of times.

_Pure_…

Nishimura was aware that even though he used such a word to describe Natsume's smile, Natsume was still hiding some sort of complex emotion behind it. Regardless, it was one of his more honest expressions, like the distressed one he showed today.

Feeling a bit fed up, Nishimura crawled off his bed and moved to get changed. As he was about to take his shirt off, it dawned on him; the other source of his discomfort.

Slipping his shirt off, Nishimura gazed at the reflection of his own abdomen in the mirror. He touched his half-naked self around the ribs, before realising how _utterly embarrassing_ this action was… Folding his arms in a fluster, as if to hide what he'd just done from an invisible spectator, Nishimura mentally insulted himself a few times over before calming down.

Nishimura squeezed his sides lightly, careful to do it more subtly this time. In the split second that he had held onto Natsume, Nishimura had realised how horribly thin the boy was. He could distinctly remember the sensation of Natsume's ribs pressing into his arms. Feeling a chill run down his spine, Nishimura finally got changed and dressed, before unconsciously drifting towards his bed again. His mind became flooded with a restlessness that he could not describe.

How could Natsume be so frail?

How had he lived up until now, for him to have that sort of frame?

Nishimura always knew that Natsume was slim, but this was…as if he could break a bone just from tripping over. Nishimura pressed his ribs again (forgetting to feel embarrassed this time), recalling how Natsume's malnourished frame had dug into his bare skin. How? How could a normal teenage boy be so painfully thin?

Nishimura was suddenly overcome with an irrational fear; What if one day, Natsume just fell apart and disappeared?


	3. Kitamoto: Part 1

Kitamoto sat at his desk, staring blankly at his homework. He repeatedly tried to concentrate on the task, but remembering Natsume's pained expression again, he let out a heavy sigh as he pushed the textbook away. Kitamoto had happened to witness the whole episode with Nishimura's surprise attack. Thinking it would be funny, he had hid behind a shelf and watched them, only to see his friend's unexpected reaction to a light-hearted prank.

Why would Natsume react like that?

It seemed like more than being surprised, he seemed…afraid. But afraid of _what_? Kitamoto tried to imagine what on earth could cause a teenage boy like Natsume to be so alarmed. Kitamoto leaned back in his chair. The more he thought about it, the more Natsume's expression seemed to come up…and the more frustrated he became.

Dammit…Natsume's expression was stuck to his consciousness like rice cake. Because, even from the distance, Natsume's expression had made him shudder. All the insecurity that reflected in Natsume's eyes had overwhelmed him; threatening to pull him deep into a world of fear. It was not an expression that Kitamoto was familiar with, certainly not an expression usually found in his world. But Natsume was part of his world now, and he knew that he definitely did not want to see that awful expression again.

_Why did Natsume make that sort of face? What was he afraid of?_

Kitamoto soon realised that there was nothing he could hope to decipher on his own. His train of thought gradually moved towards the realisation that Natsume really hid so much of himself from them.

Kitamoto did not hate Natsume, but he could not deny that his fake smiles were like a small, icy prick in his heart.

Those impassive smiles which were plastered to his face as if they were a part of him…as if he had long gotten used to wearing such masks. Because Kitamoto knew that's what they were; masks. Masks that shielded the 'something' which had been buried deep down somewhere, afraid to show itself.

Afraid that thinking any deeper may create a rift between him and Natsume, Kitamoto shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

"What are you doing?"

Kitamoto jumped a little, and then turned to see Mana at his door with a raised eyebrow.

"I knocked but you didn't answer."

"…No, it's nothing." Then, on a whim (or perhaps not), Kitamoto decided to smile at Mana and repeated, "It's nothing."

Mana just mumbled something about him being creepy, borrowed a dictionary, and left, muttering that he was creepy again. The whole time, Kitamoto had tried to keep an uncharacteristically flat, fake smile.

Is this what Natsume did to himself? Day in, and day out…in front of Kitamoto, Nishimura, and even with the Fujiwara couple. How long has Natsume had to endure this horrible cycle of shutting himself in behind a mask?

The thought of Natsume doing this everyday, everywhere, for so long…seemed extremely, extremely lonely. And the thought of _that_ made Kitamoto extremely, extremely afraid. Afraid that his friend was in a world he could not understand, and that even if Natsume was to suffer or break down; he could do nothing.


End file.
